


Heartstrings | Smooches: A Klance Kissing Zine

by EleanoraWrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Artist Keith, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Boys Kissing, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Eventual Keith/Lance (Voltron), First Kiss, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, Keith/Lance (Voltron)-centric, Keith/Lance first kiss, Klance zine, M/M, Minor Keith/Lance (Voltron), Minor Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Orphan Keith (Voltron), POV Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Slow Burn Keith/Lance (Voltron), Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Soft Keith/Lance (Voltron), heartstrings, smooches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28970502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EleanoraWrites/pseuds/EleanoraWrites
Summary: “You drew all of these?” Lance asks in amazement and Keith feels his eyes on him, searching for the answer as he swallows in dry. “Keith, these are amazing.”“They’re just sketches,” Keith states shakily, trying to be as indifferent and detached as he can.“No, they’re more than that,” Lance says softly.-----My contribution to theSmooches: A Klance Kissing Zinewith Keith and Lance's first kiss.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 122





	Heartstrings | Smooches: A Klance Kissing Zine

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely people,
> 
> Today I'm sharing my first ever Klance zine piece for my very first zine, _Smooches: A Klance ANCE Kissing Zine_. 
> 
> I am very fond of this particular story. It started as a mere thought that I wrote down without thinking I could ever develop into this. The idea of Keith drawing his emotions, of Lance finding out the truth due to a sketch of his, had been in my mind since I started writing Klance fanfiction. I'm glad I got the chance to develop it for this zine.
> 
> This is the first time this piece has ever seen the light of day since the release of the zine. Therefore, I hope those of you who never got the chance to buy the PDF, will enjoy this as much as I did while writing it.
> 
> Enjoy ❤️

The observation deck was a haven for those who wished to be alone. The large window overlooking the vastness of space provided the perfect scenery to drift out of reality if even for a brief moment. 

And to Keith, it also provided him an escape from the crowded Castle that despite being enormous and empty apart from them, somehow felt cramped and claustrophobic at times. Here he could let inspiration hit him, hide away from the rest of the paladins and be with his own thoughts, with his own loneliness and with his emotions. 

With the hum of the Castle of Lions playing in the background like a mechanic symphony, he lets the pencil in his hand move swiftly on the blank page, pouring out in charcoal his confused feelings. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he felt, what he missed and what he needed, all he knew was that inside him was a hurricane of reactions that spiralled in full force, never once giving him the release he needed.

The lines were smooth, the sketch slowly coming to life and portraying his turmoil. All the danger and threats they’ve gone through were being transferred into the page, the gruesome image of Zarkon haunting him, taunting him.

“Watcha doing?” 

He was so absorbed in his sketch that the voice booms like thunder in his ears. Keith lets out a shriek and swirls around so fast he almost snaps his neck. The bones pop and he groans at the sudden pain, rubbing the tender spot as he lifts his eyes to his intruder.

“ _Quiznak_ Lance,” he says as the new red paladin nonchalantly approaches him, hands in his pockets and dark circles under his eyes. Keith doesn’t like them because they make Lance’s cheerful face look ashen and his blue eye hollow. “You scared me.”

“Sorry. Can’t sleep?” Lance asks slumping down on the floor next to Keith, knees pulled up and arms wrapped around them. Keith notices how his cheek squishes a little as Lance rests his head on his knees, face turned to him and eyes dark blue in the dim light of the deck. 

“Yeah,” Keith replies looking away, heart squeezing lightly inside his ribcage. He glances down at his sketchbook and slowly closes it, exhaling his weariness out. “I haven’t been able to sleep properly since Shiro disappeared. I keep having nightmares with the battle and Zarkon. I feel so…”

“ _ Hopeless _ ?” Lance offers and Keith fleetingly looks at him. His lips are puckered, his brows creased in an expression of pained grief. “I get it; I feel the same. I can’t help but feel that we failed him somehow. I hope I won’t fail you as our new leader.”

Keith swallows around the lump that has formed in his throat and stars back at Lance who averts his gaze. But not before Keith catches the glimpse of something gleaming there, something very similar to tears. He opens his mouth to speak, to reassure Lance that he didn’t fail Shiro and that he would never fail him but the words get stuck on the pounding of his heart, choked in his chest as emotions flood wildly inside his veins. 

“What’s that?” Lance asks sudden and curiously, pointing at the sketchbook in Keith’s lap.

“It-it’s nothing,” Keith stutters as he tries to clumsily hide it from Lance’s sight. He feels every cell of his body go into chaos at the prospect of Lance learning about his secret. 

“Oh come on man,” Lance is already on his knees and facing Keith with a small determined twinkle in his eye. It tugs at the corner of his lips ever so slightly, giving him a mischievous expression that has Keith suddenly frozen in place. And it was all Lance needed to fling forward, hands reaching out and getting the book in one swift movement. 

“Hey,” Keith jerks awake from his fleeting stupor and flails his arms pathetically, trying to retrieve his sketchbook back, panic beginning to boil inside him. “Lance, gimme that!” 

And his heart drops to the floor and tries to bury itself there as Lance opens the sketchbook and flips through the pages. Keith watches his expression shift with each page he turns, eyes widening in surprise as he takes Keith’s little secret in. 

Keith flushes, feels the embarrassment creep in and nestle alongside the icy dread of anxiety. He bites his lips, crossing his arms at his chest as he averts his gaze from the red paladin, not wanting to see his face as he reads through Keith’s emotions sketched black on white like an open book.

“You drew all of these?” Lance asks in amazement and Keith feels his eyes on him, searching for the answer as he swallows in dry. “Keith, these are amazing.”

“They’re just sketches,” Keith states shakily, trying to be as indifferent and detached as he can.

“No, they’re more than that,” Lance says softly.

And for the second time in such a short period of time, Keith’s neck pops and he flinches at the pain. Lance is looking down at his sketchbook with a strange expression wrinkling his forehead, head cocked slightly to side and lips parted in a silent awe. 

“You like them?” Keith inquires cautiously, fearing the answer.

Lance shifts his gaze back to him, eyes so deep and so blue Keith feels like he’s diving into the ocean and wants to drown. He holds his breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me you could draw?” Lance asks instead, Keith’s breath coming out in a long-suffering sigh that does little to ease the weight on his chest. 

“I draw to pour out my feelings,” he begins slowly, looking out of the observation deck’s window into the endless stars that flicker like pulsing heartbeats, “to say through images what I can’t express with words, what I don’t understand. It’s an escape for me; for a long time I didn’t have anyone to talk to so I just…  _ sketched _ .”

“Keith-“

“I’m not good with words,” Keith continues, disregarding the way Lance had called his name, gently though wretched, the echoes of the sympathy Keith was so used to whenever he said he was an orphan. “Some people have diaries, a psychologist to talk to. I have my sketchbooks. All I am is in there; all my turmoil, my dreams, my hopes, my past… my wish for the future. You name it.”

The silence that falls between them is only punctured by that continuous hum of the engines, the vibrations soft but reverberating through Keith’s body. It mingles with the already unsteady tenseness in his shoulders, with the frantic heartbeat that pounds at a thousand miles per second. 

He didn’t dare to look at Lance, didn’t want to know what he thought of the wrecked mess that he is, the façade he always put up to keep people at bay. He didn’t want his hopes to be crushed by one single glance.

“What were you feeling when you drew this one?” Lance’s voice breaks the silence in a whisper, so quiet Keith almost didn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. 

Keith reluctantly looks back at Lance. He’s showing a particular page, one that short-circuits Keith’s insides and sends spasms of cold shivers down his spine. He swallows loudly, his Adam’s apple lolling up and down with the effort. 

He’s staring at his most perfect sketch, the one he’s prouder of and the one that reveals more of himself than any other. 

He had managed to capture Lance’s true essence, his perfect imperfections that opens the butterflies’ wings inside his stomach, that make his blood sing, his heart flutter, his breath hitch. The brightness of his soul, the keenness of his heart, the concealed bravery that inspires Keith; every single aspect that he loved about Lance was depicted in that sketch, the sketch that made him realise that he was…  _ in love _ .

With trembling fingers he traces the pencil lines and feels the way they scratch the paper and mark them to forever tell the story of his deepest feelings, the memory of that day when he drew it the fondest and the painful of them all.

“You sketched me,” Lance says uncertainly. “Why would you sketch me?”

Keith glances up at Lance who is staring back with glistening eyes, breath ragged as his chest moves up and down. The cosmic glow outside the grand window beams around him like a celestial shroud and Keith’s heartstrings pull at the sight.

“I was happy,” he declares, exhaling his next words as if a weight had been lifted. “And scared. But mostly happy.”

Lance gazes down at the sketch and then back up, boring into Keith almost confused. “Why were you happy and scared?”

Keith moistens his lips as he thinks of his next words, knowing that whatever answer he might give will forever change the course of their rivalry, friendship, whatever it is that they have between them. 

“I call that sketch  _ Heartstrings _ ,” he begins slowly, carefully, truthfully. “I drew that when you accepted me as the new Voltron leader, when you supported me and became my right hand man. It was also the day when I finally figured out what I felt for you.”

Keith purses his lips, not courageous enough to continue proclaiming his feeling. He was staring at the floor between them, focused in calming his erratic breathing that he didn’t even notice Lance scooting closer to him, the way he looked at him. 

“And what did you figure out?” Lance presses on lightly.

“Can’t you guess?” Keith rasps, closing his eyes tightly at the wave of emotions that suddenly assault him. 

“I could,” Lance says in a delicate tone and Keith shudders when he feels him looming next to him, so close he can feel the heat emanating from his body. His breathing gets caught in his throat. “But I want to hear it coming from you.”

“ _ Lance _ ,” he whispers, shaking his head and exhaling painfully. 

“Keith, look at me,” Keith reluctantly opens his eyes, blinking in the sight of Lance so close he can feel his hot breath fan against his cheek. His heart stops, clogging his throat. “Say it.”

His eyes flutter down to Lance’s lips, so dangerously close he just needs to lean forward to taste them. “Lance I…”

“Yes?” Lance breathes out the question almost in a wheeze, his hot breathing tantalising Keith’s composure as it brushes against his lips. 

“I…I’m in love with you!”

The words come out in a strangled croak that Lance swallows as he makes a strange noise in the back of his throat and crashes against Keith, capturing his lips and sighing as he kisses him. 

Keith can barely breathe, can barely register what’s happening, his mind completely dazed at finally feeling Lance’s lips on his, tasting him, savouring him, pulling him closer and deepening the fireworks that burst inside his whole body. 

It’s a kiss that blinds him, that shakes him to the core and that he can’t get enough of. And after the initial shock, he relaxes into Lance’s arms and returns the same hunger and passion, perhaps a little more urgently than he intended. But the way Lance’s lips move against his is so zealous and so spellbinding, he just lets himself go under.

When he feels Lance unwillingly pull away, he feels lightheaded, drunk on Lance’s kiss and his chest swells to the point of aching at how blissful he feels. Lance nuzzles their noses together and Keith can see him bite his swollen lips, sighing contentedly.

“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you?” Lance enquires with his eyes still closed and relishing in the moment. Keith’s hands cup his face, Lance leaning into his touch as he answers his own question. “Since the Garrison.”

“That long?” Keith chuckles nervously and he is rewarded by a gentle smile and chortle from Lance that washes over him. 

“Yeah,” Lance replies and then opens his eyes, pinning Keith with those two oceans that pull him into their depths. They glow, their previous weariness slowly eclipsed by the radiance that brightens them. “ _ That _ long.”

And Lance’s leaning in again, this time shifting in his place so he can be chest to chest with Keith, both hearts a chaotic cacophony of frantic beats that overlaps the hum of the engines in the background. Keith feels Lance wrap his arms around his shoulders, a soft thud echoing in the dark of the night. Then they’re kissing again, this time slowly and cherishing each second before they press their foreheads together, breathing the same air and just staring at each other flustered and content. 

“Are you crying?” Keith asks amused.

“No!” Lance replies indignantly but with a quiet sniffle and Keith looks at him fondly, sees the soft blush spread from the bridge of his nose to his cheeks, enhancing the tiny freckles doting his skin. There’s a single tear streaming down his face and Keith immediately wipes the trail it leaves behind with the pad of his thumb. Lance leans into the touch again, a tender and shy smile quivering on his lips. “I dropped your sketchbook on my haste to kiss you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Keith returns kissing the corner of his lips and then the point of his nose. Lance giggles lightly. 

“Do you have more sketches of me?” Lance asks tentatively, giving Keith a faked innocent glance that makes his insides lurch slightly. 

“I have an entire sketchbook dedicated to you,” he answers, a soft blush heating his cheeks. “I’ve been having feelings for you since the Garrison too. I just didn’t know what they meant.”

“And the  _ Heartstrings… _ ?”

“That was when I figured out that I love you,” Keith concludes this time not fearing his words, not letting them choke him on their way out. “Maybe I loved you before that, I don’t know. But that day when I sketched it, it all finally made sense to me. It became clear.”

Lance dampens his lips. “Show me? My sketchbook?”

It’s not a demand nor is it a request; it’s a hopeful and cautious question. Lance gazes at him patiently, giving Keith enough time to control his heartbeat, his breathing and his emotions, to grab Lance’s hand and link their fingers. 

“Do you…?” Keith’s voice falters and he fears looking from their clasped hands. 

Next thing he knows, he’s falling backwards with Lance’s weight on top of him and lips clumsy for yet another kiss. This time he feels Lance tug at his collar to pull Keith to him, feels him melt as he returns the kiss, hears him sigh as Keith’s hand finds its way to the back of his neck and holds him there.

“I also love you,” Lance murmurs against his lips, relaxes into his arms and exhales as he repeats the words. “I love you.”

Keith smiles and wraps Lance in his embrace, crushing him to his chest as they keep kissing, indulging themselves in each other as space outside the observation deck just passes by, star after blinking star, and planet after distant planet. 

But all that matters is the here and now, the whispered declarations of love that have been waiting for far too long to be proclaimed out loud and to be sealed with kisses. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading 🤗
> 
> If you liked this fic, please leave some kudos and/or a comment. I'll be eternally grateful.
> 
> If you wish to contribute to my writing, you can do so by tipping me on [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/elliewrites) 💜
> 
> _Xoxo Ellie_


End file.
